Archive for May, 1945

Many Happy Returns

Sunday, May 27th, 1945

Here I am at the office this fine, sunny Sunday evening, killing two birds with one stone: I’m working the swing shift and also taking the CQ job for Herb, which means I must stay here all night.

But I don’t want you to feel sorry for me because I’m at the office tonight!  It’s probably the best thing that could have happened to me—I need the calm, quiet, restful atmosphere of the Hq. building.  Am I ever worn out?—to a frazzle!  I’m not used to all this night life, you see.  I’ve just finished a very “rough” week.  Jayne and I had dates on Monday and Wednesday evenings, I took her and her mother and sister to dinner and the show on my birthday (Friday), and yesterday we were together from noon to past midnight.  That makes four nights in one week that I didn’t get to bed until about 2:30 a.m., and I was working late the other nights to boot!  Doesn’t sound much like me, does it?

I had a terrible time getting to town Friday night.  I couldn’t get a seat on the only bus leaving in the late afternoon, and I was supposed to meet Jayne and her family at 5:45 at the restaurant.  I knew that all the reservations and everything had been made, and I almost went crazy trying to figure out how to get there by the proper time.  As it turned out, I was half an hour late (fortunately, they waited for me).  After missing my regular transportation, it’s a wonder I got in to town that early!

I let Jayne take care of the arrangements for dinner, and I must say that she did a fine job of it.  A nice table for four was reserved for us.  First we had a soup course, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  It was a “thickish” vegetable soup, served with crisp buns.  Then came the main course: a large platter with all four of our servings of chicken, potatoes, and various vegetables all laid out and arranged just so—you know, like the pictures in the magazines.  The waitress moved this food to our individual dinner plates, and we started eating away.  I even talked the waitress out of a glass of milk, my first overseas!  Well, the chicken was excellent, as where the mashed potatoes, carrots, asparagus, etc.  We had mushrooms, too, but none of us liked them—toadstools, that’s what they are!

The next thing to be brought out was my birthday cake!  That was the last thing I expected to get at a restaurant.  Jayne’s work again, I discovered.  It was a lovely sponge cake which had been soaked in something to make it yellow and pink and give it a fruity, juicy taste, if you follow me.  The top of the cake was covered with a thin layer of flavored gelatin, I believe, and on this was written “Many Happy Returns”, as well as other decorations.  We finished up with tea and biscuits, of course.  Perhaps the most surprising thing of all was this:  soon after we started eating our dinner, the little orchestra in the café played “Happy Birthday To You” for me.  Our table was on the balcony, and everyone on that floor began looking around to see who was celebrating a birthday.  Even if I had not nodded my thanks to the violinist, they all could have seen that I was the lucky one, for I was blushing at having so much fuss made over me (that’s what Jayne said—that I blushed, I mean).  That’s the first time anyone (except Mom) has gone to so much trouble over me since I have been in the Army.  I’m afraid I liked it!  Ha Ha.

Yes, the dinner was simply perfect.  All those special things were Jayne’s ideas.  Do you wonder that I think a lot of her?  Well, she is swell, that is all.  The way she planned this dinner reminded me that she is actually twenty-one years old and not the seventeen or eighteen that she looks.  When I got her greeting card on the 24th, I realized why she had been so inquisitive about my address a week earlier.

My old friend Jack (the one who broke his wrist, remember?) was at the Carlton Friday night and saw me, but I was in such a daze that I didn’t notice him at the time.  The funny thing is that I heard his laugh in the movie later that night and therefore knew he had been to the city.  His laugh is very distinctive, and I would recognize it anywhere.  The movie at the Ritz was Mrs. Parkington, with Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon.  The women liked it, but I decided it was a big flop.  Didn’t amount to much that I could see.

After the show it was tea and sandwiches at their place, and finally a truck trip back to camp for me.  I guess that’s about enough on the subject of my birthday Friday night.

I had a 48-hour pass for Friday and Saturday.  Saturday morning I got up late, cleaned up, and headed back to Belfast.  Jayne gets Saturday afternoon off, and we thought it would be fun to visit Bangor, N.I.  It is a favorite with civilians and soldiers alike, being a resort town; I had yet to see the place.

I had been hoping for nice weather for this long-planned trip.  When I arrived in Belfast, it was not too bad.  Half an hour later, when I reached her home, it was pouring! So-o-o-o, we put on raincoats and took a tram to the station, where we caught our train to Bangor.  We got off the train a couple of stops ahead of time and walked the rest of the way in, along the coast.  It’s beautiful.  I took a couple more pictures—hope they come out okay.

I though we might go roller-skating, or to the movies, or some such thing, but she is the walking-est girl I’ve ever met.  We hiked all over the vicinity of Bangor: along the beach, on the promenade, back on the hills the other side of town.  After dinner at Caproni’s, we strolled over to the park and sat in the sun for more than an hour.  Then a couple of more pictures and the train back.  There’s no better way to see the country than that!  I had a lot of fun.

[letterstohome copyright 2008]

Posted in Northern Ireland | Comments Closed

Festive Mood

Thursday, May 10th, 1945

Well, V-E-Day has come and gone; everyone is now recuperating, myself included!  What a hectic time nearly everyone had.  The official period for celebrating Victory-in-Europe was 48 hours starting at about noon on Tuesday, May 8th.

I didn’t really do much of anything, but it took all of Tuesday night and the early hours of Wednesday to do it!  Shall I tell you about some of it?  I’m going to anyhow.  Our original plans about going to the Victory Dance at the Red Cross didn’t work out—later in the evening we decided we would go to a dance hall out near one of the parks, but somehow we didn’t get around to it.

After posting on Tuesday afternoon, I finished up some work, got completely cleaned up, and took an Army bus to Belfast, arriving there just past six o’clock.  I had supper some place along in there too.  Well, Belfast was all decorated up like a Xmas tree.  I was actually surprised.  It is usually so dull-looking.  There were thousands and thousands of British flags (and a few American ones) hanging from all the homes and buildings.  I’ve never seen anything like it in the U.S., not even on the 4th of July.  Although there was bunting and such, the endless number of flags was the outstanding feature of decked-out Belfast on this Victory Day.  And the people!!!—they were all over the place.

My first problem was to find a bus to take me out to Jane’s place.  Yeah, just try to find one!  The transportation was a merry mix-up; the busses couldn’t get in to their usual stops in the city center because of the crowds, and there weren’t many running any way.  I did finally make it, though, even if it did take over an hour.

Jane welcomed me at the door and introduced me to what seemed like everyone in that part of the city: her mother, aunt and uncle, younger sister (who is Bonnie’s age), her best girlfriend, her sister’s best girlfriend, all the folks next door, etc. etc.  Her mother fixed me up with some tea and cake (naturally!) and then what does Jane do but drag me off to church.  She is a Presbyterian and I am just a Protestant, so there is no difficulty there.  We walked to the Fort William Park church.  I must say it had a very fine service, something on the order of good old Dr. Thompson’s services in Colfax.  I had the distinction of being the only American in the church, which fact was very interesting to some of the Irish.  The Yanks are more famous for their carousing around (wine, women, and song) than for their church-going.  Ha Ha !  On our way to the church, one of the neighbors said, “Put in a good word for me, will you?”.

At about ten o’clock, as it was getting dark, we lit the large bonfire on our block.  There were hundreds of these fires all over the city, some of them taking up most of the width of the street.  Old and young joined in the games and the dancing in the street; it was a wild party.  By midnight, we were ready to take off to see what was going on down in the city center.

Down town it was much as it had been that afternoon, only more so.  Lots of people!  The City Hall and Albert Memorial Clock were nicely lit up.  They weren’t the only ones!  On the whole though, it was a well-behaved crowd.  There seemed to be fewer drunks than usual, perhaps because the liquor supply had to be stretched further than usual.  Many of the stores had boarded up their display windows.  Everyone was in a festive mood—they were carried away by the joyousness of the occasion.  Any unescorted girls were caught and kissed time and again—they may have had a better time than those with fellers!  It is hard to explain exactly what was going on and why everyone was having fun, but they were—that was clear enough.  I know that I certainly enjoyed myself throughout the evening.  Jane said that if I didn’t, I gave a marvelous impersonation.  If you had seen me, you probably would have thought I had had something to drink.  But I didn’t—didn’t have a chance!  Ha Ha !

At a quarter to five I was back at the Red Cross, ready to go to bed.  There weren’t any!  Not even a soft chair, but I didn’t care.  I stretched out on six hard wooden chairs I found up where the dance had been held.  After an hour’s rest (?!?), I got up and had an early six o’clock breakfast of two fresh fried eggs and three pieces of toast.  By eight I was back in camp on my bunk, resting.  Some night, eh?  I got a bang out of it.  Out of the ordinary for me.

At noon I got up and had a nice dinner: roast beef, potatoes and gravy, asparagus, peas, tomatoes, bread and butter, lemonade, ice cream and cake.

I have told you only a fraction of what was cooking that night.  I hope you get a general idea at least of how I spent V-E-Day night!  But that wasn’t all.  Jane called up long-distance three times Wednesday to try to get in touch with me and have me come in again that night.  Our office was locked, so I didn’t get together with her.  It was just as well, for I was absolutely exhausted.  But I hear that the Wednesday night celebrations in Belfast were more riotous than on Tuesday, if that is possible.

[letterstohome copyright 2008]

Posted in Northern Ireland, Victory in Europe Day | Comments Closed

Victory-in-Europe Day

Tuesday, May 8th, 1945

It’s here!  The day for which we have been working and fighting (some of us—not me) and waiting.  V-E-Day!  It is now a few minutes past twelve noon.  The war ended officially at noon.  The sirens have just now stopped blowing, and Bing Crosby recordings of the Star-Spangled Banner and God Bless America have come over the loudspeaker.  There is not as much excitement as might be expected, but there is no doubt that everyone is over-joyed because the war in Europe is now over—after five years and eight months.

I believe there would have been a greater sprit of celebration here if the peace proclamation had been more decisive and unexpected.  Actually, it has been very much strung out.  Rumors of complete unconditional surrender have been going the rounds for weeks.  Peace has been expected “hourly” for several days.  A few of the boys were getting fed up with this run-around.  The first definite news was at ten o’clock last night, when it was announced that Churchill would proclaim the end of the European war at 3:00 p.m. today.  (Of course, President Truman is supposed to make a similar statement in Washington, D.C. at the same time, but because of the difference in time, we wouldn’t hear that until about nine o’clock tonight.)  And then this morning came the news that V-E-Day would be declared at noon, 12:00 a.m., D.B.S.T (double British summer time, which is two hours of daylight saving).

Needless to say, I am very thankful that I have been allowed to “fight” in this war entirely from Northern Ireland.  And I know Mom and Dad are also.  What lies ahead of me I cannot even guess at this point, but we will take things as they come.

In a couple of more hours I will be off to Belfast, to join in the celebrating.  If a fellow were to make only one trip to the city all the time he was over here, this would be the night to go!  It’s going to be crowded as all hell and inconvenient in other ways, but this is the day; every man, woman, and child should get in the swing of things.  I suppose the restaurants will be cleaned out before I get there.  And many thirsts will go unquenched because of drinking material not enough, but what the heck.

I have a date with Jane for tonight, yes, indeed.  Although she doesn’t drink, she has been wondering how it is to get that “giddy feeling” and thought V-E-Day would be a swell time to find out.  I told her I might humor her to the extent of having one drink, but I’m not going to look very hard for a bar.  I know what Mom and Dad would think.  Oh, come now, folks, this is V-E-Day and I’m almost twenty-two!  Ha Ha !  Jane and I are going to a big Victory Dance at the Belfast Red Cross.  We’ll get out there on the floor and scuffle around! me, with my two left feet!  I’ll be walking all over her long gown! but I get by.  One can get away with murder in this modern dancing.  No one seems to give a damn how others dance, and that suits me fine!

Jane is especially happy to see the war end.  Their family (her father is not alive) has been living with her aunt since their home was bombed out in the big Belfast blitz of 1940-41.

Doris is the little blonde Irish girl who works? in our office.  I was very surprised to see her photo in last night’s Belfast Telegraph (newspaper).  Seems she has been entered in a Belfast beauty contest.  The picture, which was taken by an Army photographer, is deceptive.  I’ve never seen her as calm as that; besides, she is better looking than the picture indicates—especially her profile, all the way down!  Ha Ha !  Her face is okay, but it’s her figure that is her main asset.  As I have already said, this picture does not give an accurate impression of her.  She was a tomboy a few years ago and never quite got over it—still plays with the boys!  I got a million of ‘em, as Jimmy Durante would say!  Don’t get the idea that she isn’t a “nice” girl, because she is—too nice, some guys have said.  Anyway, she is a little hell-cat (in a nice, girlish way, naturally) and I pity the poor man who gets her.  She’d better get a move on if she’s going to land a Yank!

My typing is a mess, because I’m tying to hurry, but I think you will appreciate this V-E-Day letter.

[letterstohome copyright 2008]

Posted in Jayne, Northern Ireland, Victory in Europe Day | Comments Closed